Chapter 2-1
Six years ago.
“Jane! Are you really going through with this? Attorney Glen said this isn’t the right way to handle it—”
Jane Shirley, twenty-three. No—she’d already had her birthday. Twenty-four. She shot a quiet glare at Bianca, who had just burst through the door. Back then, unlike now, Bianca was a newly hired secretary, fresh to the job.
“I didn’t hire you to question my decisions, Bianca.”
At the chill in her voice, Bianca pressed her lips together. The friend—and employer—standing before her with documents in hand had bloodshot eyes. She had clearly pulled another all-nighter. Bianca knew it, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.
“And it seems Mr. Glen had something to say again about that iron ore import distributor. You don’t need to listen to him. After this, you don’t need to pass along his opinions either.”
“But Jane… There’s something off about Bellingham Trading. They’ve had a bad reputation from the start, and I’ve heard they have ties to back-alley groups—”
“Bianca.”
Jane set the papers down. Bianca’s mouth snapped shut.
Jane removed the glasses she wore only when she needed to focus on work. A dull throb pulsed at her temples. How many days had it been since she’d slept? It wasn’t intentional. Sleep simply refused to come.
Pressing her fingers hard against the bridge of her nose, Jane let out a quiet sigh.
“Money isn’t good or evil, Bianca.”
“……”
“Remember that. Our company just needs to make money. Of course, we don’t commit crimes. But if it’s not illegal, I have no intention of stopping.”
“……Then at least take proper guards with you. Last time you went to meet the representative alone without telling anyone. I’m asking as your friend, not your secretary.”
Bianca—still a little soft around the edges in those days—looked close to tears. Jane hesitated.
It had already been four years since she began operating as the faceless head of Shirley Company. There was little chance of her being personally endangered. Even so, she understood why Bianca worried. It had to be because of recent events.
After a moment of awkward silence, Jane slowly nodded.
“……All right.”
Reluctantly.
Click.
When Bianca left, silence settled over the office.
Jane reached for her glasses again, then, for some reason, set them back down with a sigh. Her focus had shattered. It would take time to regain it. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the documents again. Covering her face with both hands, she leaned her head back.
At present, she operated in the shadows as the nameless representative of the Shirley Company, the faceless heiress. The lock on that secret was so secure there was no fear of it being discovered.
But Bianca’s concern was understandable.
Bellingham Trading.
Three years ago, in a defunct foreign mining region her parents had purchased for a pittance, massive iron ore and emerald deposits had been discovered. The scale was enormous, so they’d entered into a strategic partnership with another trading company specializing in distribution.
However…
Glen, her right-hand man and legal counsel, had expressed doubts about the company.
In fact, whenever Attorney Glen met them as Jane’s proxy, Jane would attend disguised modestly as his secretary.
And she had seen the owner of Bellingham Trading. He was a man with a pleasant face. But that day, he had brought along a considerable number of large, rough-looking men.
“Haha, we’ve had some unfortunate incidents lately. They’re just escorts—please understand.”
They didn’t look like mercenaries or knights. Their quality was… questionable. Even to Jane, who had a sharp eye for people, that much was obvious. Still, she had viewed the contract favorably because Bellingham offered the most reasonable terms—and her instincts hadn’t felt entirely wrong.
After that, Jane met the representative several more times under the guise of Glen’s proxy. Each time, people around them voiced concerns.
“So capable for someone so young—no, barely more than a girl? Though that lawyer of yours looks quite a bit older. Is he into younger women? An affair? Hahaha, just joking.”
She hadn’t told Bianca or Glen about those remarks.
‘I told Bianca we’d move forward—but I was planning to scrap it.’
Instincts be damned. After hearing that kind of nonsense, there was no reason to force it through.
In the first place, she’d met Bellingham’s representative alone partly to gauge his character. That single comment hadn’t decided everything, of course. But some people revealed their true nature when faced with someone they considered weaker. The way he subtly twisted words, tried to steer the contract conditions—it left a sour taste.
And if he thought he could throw a blind insult her way, she had every intention of answering it with a blind blade.
She had the position for it. The money for it.
It wasn’t as though she needed to cling to any of this. And yet she was constantly driven by the pressure that she had to keep working.
“Haah……”
Jane opened her eyes.
Then she abruptly stood, pulled a hat low over her head, and slipped on her coat.
‘Tch. Three months of work down the drain.’
If the contract with Bellingham fell through, she’d have to review the distributor list from the beginning. Maybe that was for the best. It would bury her in work again.
For a fleeting second, she pictured the tearful faces of her co-directors, Max and Camilla—but only for a moment.
Since she’d already dressed to go out, she decided on a walk instead.
At twenty, the grandfather who had loved her dearly passed away. Not long after, her parents died in a sudden accident. Four full years had passed since then.
At twenty-four, Jane had spent every day focused solely on making money. If she stopped even briefly, the emptiness would swallow her whole. The bright personality she once had had turned cynical somewhere along the way. A physician had even suggested she was bordering on depression, but she paid it no mind.
“Um… what about marriage?”
“Y-yeah! Camilla’s right. Or at least dating? I’ve tried it—it’s not so bad!”
Those around her, worried, offered romance or marriage as solutions. But she felt no inclination.
She dreamed of the kind of relationship her parents had—love at first sight, first love, devoted to each other for life. But with the immense wealth, property, and status she possessed, such a relationship was impossible.
‘Right. What am I even earning all this money for?’
The next thing she often heard was a joking question—whether she planned to take it with her when she died. She usually brushed it off, saying she had no time to spend it. But today, on a whim—
‘I should spend it.’
A decision four years in the making.
‘But where? How do I spend it so people say I spent it well?’
Jane wandered the streets dressed in neat, understated clothing the sort an ordinary gentry woman might wear—modestly priced and unremarkable. Once, Bianca had nearly fainted seeing her dressed like this.
“You have terrible taste! You could wear the most expensive dress in the country without blinking!”
“What if I just don’t like that dress?”
Bianca had huffed that if she had Jane’s money, she’d live as the most extravagant heiress in the world. Remembering the way her friend tried so hard to lift her spirits, Jane smiled faintly.
She had lost her family, but in terms of people, her fortune wasn’t bad.
After walking for quite some time, she found herself in Fourth Street—a place she rarely visited.
Nearby stood the Empire’s pride: the Cademel Private Academy.
Politics, economics, management, history, literature, science, technology, art… It covered every discipline, cultivating the finest talents. Originally run by the imperial family, it had become independently operated by a public foundation after the establishment of the Assembly. Other institutions were run by noble alliances or merchant guild foundations as well.
‘Sponsorship is in fashion these days, wasn’t it?’
The sponsorship—started as a wager between some noblewoman and some gentleman—had only just begun to make waves and turn into a full blown trend.
It began with a competitive streak: each of them insisting the student they had picked was the more talented. And in the end, the child the lady sponsored really did succeed—becoming a remarkable painter. Now even the nobles, swarming like packs of wolves, the gentry sniffing out anything that might make money, and even the people in power were starting to take an interest.
But it felt distant to Jane.
‘Sponsorship isn’t my taste.’
Weren’t people overlooking something? Sponsorship meant taking responsibility for someone’s life. It wasn’t something to begin lightly. Giving someone money meant, conversely, letting them grow accustomed to it. That was not something to forget.
Imagine a beneficiary accustomed to their circumstances, who blossomed with support and grew used to a better life. If the sponsor whimsically withdrew that support, wouldn’t the fall be all the harsher?
Jane considered that cruelty.
Not that she intended to disparage helping someone.
‘But if it veers down a strange path, I’ll pass.’
After all, gossip often featured sponsors taking their protégés as lovers. It wasn’t something she could view positively.
Jane tore her gaze away from the distant academy.
As she walked, she came upon a fountain she’d never seen before. Around it were youthful students and young men.
‘Cademel was divided into boys’ and girls’ schools.’
This road must connect to the boys’ school. Thanks to the academy’s presence, the commercial district here was quite developed. Out of habit, she scrutinized each shop as she passed—and failed to notice a slightly raised stone in the road.
‘Ah—!’
A mistake even a child wouldn’t make. It had rained until yesterday; a puddle had formed exactly where she was about to fall. Bracing herself for her freshly worn clothes to be ruined, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Thud.
But the ground never came.
Whoosh—
Instead, carried on the breeze, she caught a cool, refreshing scent—like a forest after rain. It reminded her of the woods she’d visited as a child with her parents.
Only then did she realize someone had caught her arm, steadying her before she fell. She looked up.
Her eyes widened.
‘Wow… My God.’
Because of her upbringing, Jane had spent her childhood surrounded by rare treasures, costly things, exceptional talents—only the finest. She had been born with a discerning eye, but that environment sharpened it further. She knew value when she saw it. Better than anyone.
And she was confident in that.
But she had also learned that there were things in this world that transcended value.
A legendary painter’s final work, no longer something you could put a price on.
The way her mother looked at her father, and her father at her mother.
For a brief moment, Jane recalled the instant she had witnessed such things. Utterly rational—and yet drawn in by beauty—a wordless admiration had slipped from her.
“Are you all right?”
The voice was clear and soft, as if he hadn’t even passed through puberty. The one holding her steady was a young man a little taller than Jane. Late teens, perhaps. His features were still touched with boyishness, yet he was undeniably, strikingly beautiful.
Gray hair—though under the play of light and shadow it shimmered like silver. Pale skin, almost bloodless, smooth and fine. Well-shaped brows and a straight, elegant nose. A clean jawline flowing in graceful lines, and a slightly thick but well-balanced neck.
He looked less like a person and more like a sculpture someone had painstakingly crafted.
‘His eyes….’
His gaze, unfocused and drifting somewhere beyond her, was a murky violet. Jane’s eyes dropped—and only then did she realize. A cane lay on the ground nearby. She recognized that kind of cane.
‘A white cane….’
Though she didn’t do personal sponsorships, she donated regularly to the poorhouse. She’d seen canes like that there.
Only then did she notice what he was wearing. A school uniform—one that signified a prestigious academy. It belonged to the Cademel Private School just behind them. Yet unlike his dignified bearing, the uniform was worn thin and frayed.
“Ah… thank you for helping me, sir.”
He looked far too young to be called a “sir,” but Jane smiled smoothly.
“Thanks to you, I didn’t have to experience a post-rain puddle firsthand. I’m truly grateful.”
“……”
Though he should have been able to hear her, his eyes did not turn toward her. His hand released her.
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
His voice was cool—cold, even. It suited that untouchably handsome, almost ethereal face of his. Though it did make him seem rather prickly.
‘But if he can’t see, how did he help me?’
It was strange. He’d sensed her stumbling as she brushed past and caught her in time.
‘What a decent young man.’
Bianca had once claimed that the boys at Cademel Private School were all arrogant, self-absorbed types. Perhaps she’d been mistaken. Though since Bianca had attended the neighboring girls’ school, it wasn’t exactly baseless gossip.
The moment he took a step away, Jane quickly crouched down, picked up the cane, and pressed it into his hand.
“Your cane fell because of me—here…!”
The instant her hand brushed his, the gloved hand struck hers away sharply. His expression hardened, fierce enough that it was hard to believe he had just saved her.
“Do not touch me.”
“Ah….”
Jane flinched. She had heard that those who could not see were more sensitive to unfamiliar sensations. She must have been careless.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
“……It is not an object a lady should stoop to pick up herself.”
His tone was exceedingly curt. And yet, oddly, Jane didn’t dislike it. It felt like watching a stray cat hiss after being startled by accidental contact.
“Still, thank you so much for helping me. I’d at least like to know your name. Mine is Jane—”
She broke off mid-sentence.
Ah.
Without thinking, she had given her real name, not the one she used for outside dealings. Thank goodness she hadn’t blurted out her surname as well.
Tap.
“It is not a name worth giving. Nor do I consider it help. Good day.”
Tap. Drag. Tap.
With that, he swept past her, cane in hand. His steps were slow, but there was unmistakable finality in them—do not approach.
‘Huh?’
Something had fallen where he’d been standing. An eyepatch. Clearly his. Jane picked it up and hurried after him—only to stop short.
“Well, well—look who it is. The greaaat Lord Scharnhost graces us with his presence.”
“Hey, that’s not Lord Scharnhost. It’s Young Master. Get the title right.”
“Oh, my! Forgiiive me? Lord Scharnhost!”
“You idiot! You’re bowing the wrong way! Heh heh heh.”
“But would he even see you bow?”
“Good point!”
Three boys about his age had surrounded the young man who had just saved her, mocking him. Their jeers were so low and crude they barely registered by Jane’s standards—but for him, it would be different.
‘Mocking someone’s disability… Cademel’s reputation has truly fallen.’
She was just looking for a moment to step in when—
Thwack!
“Gah!”
Thud!
“Aaagh!”
Jane could hardly believe what she was seeing. In an instant, the boy’s cane had struck the legs of the boys taunting him—and the next second, they were all on the ground.
Each of them clutched their legs, groaning.
“Oh dear. I cannot see, you know. How unfortunate that you happened to be standing in the path of a blind man’s cane.”
His voice was weak—yet eerily cold. After a brief glance downward, he walked away.
Tap. Drag. Tap.
Jane blinked, watching every second of it. Until he vanished from sight.
In her hand remained the eyepatch she hadn’t managed to return. Her fingers curled tightly around it.
‘Good heavens…!’
She clapped a hand over her mouth.
‘This is… fun!’
That day, for the first time in four years, Jane forgot the emptiness, the futility, the gloom that had weighed her down.
The moment she returned home, she set about finding out who he was. Gray hair. Violet eyes. A beautiful face. A worn, tattered uniform. And finally, the surname the other boys had sneered—Scharnhost. The clues were more than sufficient.
Besides, she knew that name.
Astonishingly, he had once been quite famous. Perhaps, before she herself became known as the heiress of Shirliga, he had been the youngest subject of gossip and notoriety around.
Ruelne Scharnhost.
The sole legitimate heir of the Duke of Scharnhost—and now the last remaining blood relative of that ducal house.
After the establishment of the Assembly, there had been countless political conflicts—mostly class wars between imperial loyalists, assembly-aligned nobles, and the gentry. The House of Scharnhost had long served the imperial family with unwavering loyalty. Yet one day, through a baseless scheme, they fell. It was later revealed that their ruin had not been treason but the result of someone’s deliberate plot—but by then, all their enterprises and wealth had already vanished.
She had heard they were scraping by afterward, but…
‘All the direct descendants died—either of heartbreak or poverty.’
The more she learned, the more shocking it became. Even if the imperial faction was a setting sun, a house like Scharnhost must have had countless relatives and marriage ties among the nobility. And yet not a single one had helped them.
Having lost his family like that, the boy had grown up alone—and by his own strength, earned a scholarship to Cademel Private School.
But scholarships at private academies only covered tuition. Which explained the state of his uniform.
The average admission age for Cademel was fourteen. Yet Ruelne Scharnhost had entered at seventeen—three years late. And seventeen was still his current age.
‘He did look young.’
Jane nodded to herself.
What she had felt upon seeing him was akin to beholding a breathtaking work of art, or standing in awe before a grand landscape shaped by nature itself. Just as a painting that leaves a deep impression lingers in one’s heart—so had he. It wasn’t only his beauty that drew her interest, of course.
“Sponsorship, huh….”
“Hmm? What did you say, Director?”
“It’s nothing.”
It was a weekday afternoon. Bianca, who had been with her, looked up from the documents in her hands. Jane tilted her head.
“And what’s with the formal speech all of a sudden?”
“……Mr. Glen scolded me. He said I’ve been officially employed for a year now, so I should know better and separate business from personal matters.”
“Hahaha.”
Jane laughed lightly.
“Sounds like Glen’s acknowledged you.”
“You think so?”
Bianca had never once slacked off just because she spoke casually, so Jane didn’t mind either way. But the fact that Glen—her right-hand man, and someone deeply connected to her grandfather and parents—acknowledged Bianca was a welcome thing.
“By the way, Director. Did something good happen?”
“Hm?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”
Bianca chose her words carefully. To be precise, ever since her parents and grandfather had passed away, Jane had rarely smiled at all. And when she did, it was usually forced—or for business. Seeing her look genuinely pleased today made Bianca happy.
“Ah.”
Jane set down the document she had been holding. It wasn’t related to business. It was simply her own plan, grandly titled ‘Sponsorship Plan.’
“Bianca, do you know much about the sponsorship trend going around lately?”
“What kind? Sponsoring artists? Students? Or knights? There are so many these days.”
“The most famous one.”
“Then that would be student sponsorship, right? Oh, did you know? They’re calling sponsors ‘tall uncles’ these days. Honestly, who started such a tacky name?”
“Hm, really? I don’t mind it. If I did it, would I be a tall lady? Definitely not a tall madam or auntie.”
“What are you suddenly talking about?”
Bianca tilted her head. As someone who knew perfectly well that her friend and employer had never shown the slightest interest in personal sponsorships becoming trendy, she couldn’t even begin to guess what Jane was planning.
“Anyway, since I’m a Cademel alumna, clients and acquaintances keep subtly asking me about it. It’s complete chaos. You can see right through all of them.”
Bianca had already warned her juniors to keep their wits about them. Accepting sponsorship too eagerly just because it was offered was bound to cause trouble.
“But why are you asking?”
At that question, Jane smiled—a bright, vibrant smile that left Bianca momentarily dazed.
Come to think of it, this might have been her last chance to stop her. But faced with her friend’s radiant happiness—the first in four years—how could she?
“I’m going to sponsor someone!”